


Primum Tempus

by wevegotworktodo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8069533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wevegotworktodo/pseuds/wevegotworktodo
Summary: Reader admits to Dean during a drunken celebration that she has a secret problem. Dean rectifies the situation. A/N: the title is Latin for 'first time.' Read into it as you wish. No hymens were broken during the making of this fic.





	

Primum Tempus

 

You weren’t sure how you’d gotten to this point. Take that back, yes you did. One successful hunt and two bottles of Jack is exactly what had gotten you here. 

 

There had finally been a hunt close to home, allowing you to go back to the bunker rather than spending another night in a dingy motel. Sam had turned in early, going to his room after minimal celebratory drinks. So now it was just you and Dean matching each other shot for shot, laughing, telling wild tales of past hunts, you know...your usual drunken antics. This time though, this time was…different. Something had apparently went horribly wrong because the conversation had turned to sex. 

So here you are, you and Dean Winchester, the guy you’d had a crush on since the first time you laid eyes on him, openly discussing sex. Well, he is anyway. You’re more listening than talking, hanging on every word, imagining what it’d be like to feel his hands on you, his lips on yours, his cock buried deep inside you. Then you zone out, completely focused on his perfect pink lips, so full and luscious, moving in a torturous rhythm as he speaks. 

“Y/N, Hey!” He snaps his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality. “You ok?”

 

“Fine,” you shake your head up and down, “Just a little fuzzy from the drinks.” Maybe he’s drunk enough to buy it, and not to have noticed you staring. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, checking for any drool which may have unwillingly escaped. 

 

“It’s your turn to answer a question.” 

 

“Oh, well let’s have it.”

 

“The most times you've gotten off in one night?”

Fuck. Why that? Why the only thing you’re too embarrassed to talk about, to be honest about? In your drunkenness you can’t even think fast enough to lie. Instead you pick up the bottle of whiskey you'd had from the table and down what’s left in three big gulps.

You stand and take a step forward. “I think it’s bedtime.”

 

Dean grabs your wrist, stopping you dead in your tracks. “What’s wrong? Don’t wanna discuss the incompetence of the men in your life with a legend?” he smirks up at you. 

 

You take a deep breath and roll your eyes. If he only knew. “Just let it go Dean.” You go to take another step forward, to pull away, but his grip tightens. 

 

Dean tugs you backward toward him until he can see your face. “Hey, I’m sorry if I said something wrong, please stay.” He sticks his bottom lip out into a full pout and gives you puppy dog eyes even Sam would be proud of. 

“It’s ok Dean. You’re actually right, I shouldn’t discuss my shitty sex life with…” you make air quotes with your fingers as you finish “…a legend.” 

 

“Wow, it can’t be that bad.” He chuckles.

The whiskey you had just chugged suddenly hits you like a ton of bricks. Your head spins, and you sway on your feet a bit before deciding you should sit back down. 

“Do you really wanna know about my sex life Dean? How many times I've gotten off in one night?”

His eyes widen as he nods eagerly.

“Six.” 

He looks surprised. “Six? Wow, must of been one hell of a guy.” 

“One hell of a toy,” you say with a halfhearted laugh. 

“That's not what I meant.” 

“No? That's what you asked. How many times.” You say it in hopes he'll digress, finally let the subject go.

“I meant with another person, Y/N.”

Fuck. Two options here. Either lie like hell, just make up a believable number, so you can go to bed and pass out for two days. Or…you can tell the truth. Risk Dean thinking that you're a freak of the worst kind, and have him look at you differently from now on. You take a swig from Dean’s bottle this time. The liquid courage now replenished, helps you to push past any inhibitions you may of had a few seconds ago and just say what’s on your mind. You figured the chances of either of you remembering this tomorrow are slim to none anyway. 

He's waiting, slid down and leaning back in his chair, empty tumbler in his hand. His gaze is focused directly on your face and isn't wavering. 

You take a deep breath, barely manage to squeak out the word. “Zero.”

He sits straight up, his brow furrows, head tilts slightly to the side in disbelief. “Zero?” he repeats. 

You nod. “Zero. Look, it’s not like I’ve never gotten off, obviously, just not like that...not with anyone.”

 

Dean leans forward and pours himself another shot, downing it quickly. Looks right back at you inquisitively. “Why the hell not?”

 

You stand again and pace the room, still not quite believing you’re actually discussing this with Dean of all people. 

“Look, I’ve been hunting since I was 14 years old. I’ve never even had a real boyfriend, so it’s not exactly easy for me to just let go like that, to trust someone enough to be that vulnerable with them.”

 

You finally turn to face Dean, mentally preparing yourself for the look of disgust on his face. Instead he seems actually understanding. ‘Wow, I get it...sort of.’

 

"Well, there you go, second on my list of deepest, darkest secrets." You turn and start down the hall to your room, maybe sleep will wash some of the embarrassment away. 

"Wait! If that’s number two on the list then what’s number one?" he calls after you. 

 

"That’s a story for another time Winchester," you yell back over your shoulder.

******  
"Y/N" Dean knocks and the door pushes open slightly under the weight of his fist. Damn thing didn’t latch properly and you hadn’t noticed. 

 

You're getting ready for bed, stripped down to just your pink lace panties, pulling your tee over your head, when Dean opens the door. He catches you off guard, you turn when he says your name, giving him an eyeful, and you're almost certain you caught him licking his lips.

 

“I just wanted to make sure you're ok." He says, stepping into your room, latching the door behind him.

 

"I’m fine Dean. What do you want?" you move around to the foot of the bed, closer to him. 

 

"I just need to know one more thing." He takes another step forward, closing more of the distance between you. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

 

"Of course I trust you.’ You whisper, barely noticing that he’s moved so close to you that one deep breath would have your bodies touching…until you inhale and your breasts meet his chest, sending a wave of chills through your body. 

 

He lifts his eyebrows in question. "Enough to let me take you there?" he leans forward, his lips ghosting over yours as he speaks. 

 

Jesus was this actually happening? Was Dean Winchester making a move on you? When his lips touch yours they feel just like you imagined they would. Soft and full, his tongue thick and tasting of whiskey and mint. It wasn’t feverish or needy, but surprisingly slow and deliberate.

"Dean?"

"Yea, sweetheart."

Suddenly you lose your inhibitions, go for the gold. "Fuck me. Make me cum."

He rests his forehead against yours as he looks you in the eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, I plan on making you cum, but I’m not going to fuck you, I’m going to make love to you. I think that's your problem, the emotions were missing before."

 

Dean scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the bed, never breaking eye contact as he lays you down. As he hovers over you his lips meet yours again, much the same as the last time, slowly exploring your mouth. He breaks away from your lips, kissing your cheek and your neck as his calloused hand caresses your stomach at the hem of your tee, inching upward under the thin fabric. The small featherlight touches alone enough to entice a dampness in your core. His fingers reach the underside of your breast tracing its width before grazing across your nipple, immediately hardening it to a peak. 

 

Dean leans back onto his haunches, his hand twisted in the fabric of your shirt, pulling you forward with him, then dragging it off over your head. Your hands now skimming up his back, feeling each muscle ripple under your fingertips. He cups your face in both hands, fingers in your hair, as he kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip as he pulls away allowing you to lay back on the bed. 

His shirt is the next thing off, deposited on the floor by the bed, before leaning forward again. Damn he was gorgeous. You had seen him shirtless countless times before, but now, right in front of you, his shoulders and arms flex as he holds himself, there's no comparison. 

 

He licks and sucks along your pulse point, your collarbone, your shoulder. Suddenly capturing a nipple in his mouth, manipulating it with his tongue, and the other between his fingers, mirroring his movements. You moan, raising your hips slightly off the bed, feeling his erection as it presses into your thigh enticing you to raise your hips higher. He lets out a low groan against you when you reach for the waistband of his jeans, dipping your fingers just over the edge, feeling the velvet tip of his cock already leaking precum. Unbuttoning and unzipping his pants you pull them down as far as you can while he’s pressed against you. 

 

With his lips once again on yours you squeeze his ass, digging your nails in lightly as you palm his length with the other, spreading his wetness over the sensitive flesh. He breaks the kiss, throwing his head back, groaning, almost growling at you.

"I want to taste you." You manage to croak out, dry and raspy. 

"Not yet, this is about you baby, not me."

Dean’s tongue snakes over your body until he's at the apex of your thighs, hooking finger inside your panties and pulling them to the side.

"Mmmmm, so wet for me already." Dean licks a stripe through your slick folds, his thick tongue immediately igniting a burning in your core. You mew and buck your hips forward needing more. 

 

Dean hooks his fingers in the waist of your panties and pulls them off as he moves to the foot of the bed. He sheds his own pants and boxers before crawling back and setting between your legs. He licks the inside of your thighs, causing your to shiver at the sensation coursing through you, then buries his face into your dripping pussy, lapping you from your ass to your clit and back again.

Dean’s eyes never leave your face, taking in everything you have to offer, all of your facial expressions, how your body moves with each touch, everything he needs to know in order to make sure he’s the one to take you there. 

 

“Damn, you taste good." He circles your clit with his tongue a few times then dips it inside of you. 

 

"Jesus, Dean." You fist at the sheets beside you. He's only barely touched you there and yet you're already closer than you’d ever been. Dean replaces his tongue with two fingers, begins pumping them in and out of you at a steady pace. 

 

"How’m I doin’, sweetheart?" 

You answer only by throwing your head back and whining. He circles your clit relentlessly with his tongue and you can feel the fire in your core grow deeper, needing to be released. Dean laps the bundle of nerves with his tongue in time with the pace of his fingers. 

 

Suddenly your body goes rigid, a split second later your orgasm washing over you. You fist his hair and scream his name as you come apart. Your walls pulsing and contracting around Dean’s fingers as you thrash beneath him, as he coaxes every ounce of pleasure from you. He takes everything you have to give plus more. 

When satisfied with himself Dean pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean before licking another stripe through your folds, causing you to convulse again at the sensation on your overly sensitive flesh. 

He grins like the Cheshire cat, "Sorry baby, but I had to taste the fruits of my labor." Dean kisses you, needier this time, his throbbing cock nudging at your entrance. "I need to be inside you, need to feel you cum on my cock." 

You can't speak but your eyes say yes, as did your body. You spread your legs wider for him, wrapping them around his waist pulling him closer. He sinks into you, groaning as he fills you to the hilt, then stills for a moment. His pace is slow and torturous, dragging every glorious inch out of you to the tip, before pushing back in. 

He's hitting your sweet spot with every draw, and you feel yourself building again, needing only a little more to take you over the edge. 

"Dean, faster." You plead. 

"You feel too good. If I speed up I won’t last." He whispers into your ear, before sucking on your pulse point. 

"Me neither." You say, fisting his hair and grinding your hips. 

Knowing you're close is enough to let him snap his hips forward, thrusting into you quickly and fluidly. He presses a thumb into your clit and the coil snaps again. You dig your nails into Dean’s back, wanting him closer, as if it were a possibility. Your pussy clenches around him as he crashes into you one last time before he lets go himself, pumping you full of hot cum, drawing out more of your orgasm with the new sensation. 

 

He collapses on top of you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Once you both come down from your high Dean kisses you and rolls to your side. 

He brushes your matted hair away from your sweat covered brow. "So now that number two has been wiped off your list of deepest, darkest secrets why don’t you tell me about number one?" 

 

"Number one isn’t exactly pertinent anymore." 

"Why’s that?"

 

You smile as your lips graze his, "Because it was wanting to be with you."


End file.
